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by On The Surface
Summary: Collection, fanon pairing drabbles/oneshots. 2. She wasn’t good at saying sorry, even with all that had changed. Gwen/Trent, Trent/Heather friendship. Taking requests.
1. Abnormal: DxL

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#1. Abnormal – _But here I was, surprised I could talk badly to Courtney, and melting inside for another girl. Duncan/Lindsay, Duncan's PoV._

I never thought it was exactly normal for me to like her. She wasn't my 'type', per say. But then again, I was hardly her type. Courtney had made fun of me for falling for her, the 'stupid blonde' who 'always listened to Heather' and 'would never love you back'.

She was jealous, and I told her so.

Her mouth just gaped while I walked away, hurting inside. I hadn't expected myself to have the guts to tell off 'Princess'. What was wrong with me? I was supposed to be the toughened, juvenile delinquent.

But here I was, surprised I could talk badly to Courtney, and melting inside for another girl.

I was sitting on steps of the Killer Bass cabin, trying to wrap my head around the situation, when she came up to me. "Duncan?" she asked, so stupidly-innocent that it drove me insane, it really did.

"What are you doing here, Lindsay?" I asked, actually quite curious, had she forgotten she wasn't part of this team?

"You seem sad," was all she said. I didn't know what to say to her. 'I'm not sad, I'm just in love with you' or something sappy like that?

Something that wasn't me.

Not Duncan, they'd all say, he's a jerk, not a softie. He'd never love Lindsay. The stupid one.

I hated thinking of her like that, she wasn't stupid. She was smart and strong in her own way. It's just that I happened to be the only one who could recognize it.

I walked off, leaving her confused. I was angry at myself for being rude to her, but I was confused about all this. I couldn't let it go.

I barely talked to her for the next two weeks, during which Courtney was eliminated and I had a bit more clarity to my thoughts.

It was at that time that _she_ got voted off. It was then that my head cleared. She proved what I'd always thought; she was strong, even smart, in her own way. I was right. She showed it to the world when she told Heather off. I didn't think she had it in her, but I was wrong to ever doubt her.

She held her head high when she left; getting a last stab in at Heather with some comment I was too astounded with her to comprehend. I hadn't the gut to say anything when she had passed Geoff, DJ and I. I didn't have the strength to call out to her when she left on the Boat of Losers.

I was weak, and that fact constantly stabbed me when I thought of her. She deserved to win. She deserved better than what the others thought of her.

When Heather nonchalantly walked off after she left, calling her an ignorant loser, I snapped. I followed her back to her cabin and it was just the two of us. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and asked what I wanted.

"I loved her, you bitch," I told her, bluntly. She looked slightly confused, and then it clicked.

"Lindsay?" She asked incredulously, "you _loved_ that loser? She was so easy to control, to manipulate," she laughed, "I can't believe you, of all people, loved her. The delinquent and the idiot. Not exactly normal, I would say."

I couldn't stand her at that moment, so I punched her without hesitation. Without regret. I could tell she'd get a black eye, I packed a punch and I was proud of it.

Izzy, Gwen and LeShawna were outside when I busted through the door. I saw their faces as I pushed by and I could tell they were watching me all the way back to my own cabin, wondering what I could do that would have made Heather cry, and cry for real.

The bitch.

So, that's the first one. I actually like this fanon pairing, one of my favorites. :)

Anyway! Tell me what you thought, and also send in ideas for more fanon pairings! (I'll do a few canon pairings too if someone really wants one. :D)


	2. Bereaved: TxH

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#2. Bereaved_ – She wasn't good at saying sorry, even with all that had changed. Gwen/Trent, Trent/Heather friendship. Trent's PoV._

The first thing I'd said when I learned she had passed on was 'why?' It wasn't anything romantic, nor grief-filled, just a question.

A stupid question, too. I knew why. She'd suffered a heart attack from the stress of both her brother and mother dying three months prior in a car crash.

She was thirty-two, I was thirty-one. We'd married at twenty-four. She'd given birth at twenty-nine. Our son was three, and his mother was dead. He didn't understand, and neither did I.

Sometimes life isn't fair, which was quite obvious to me by this point. I'd known this little fact was annoyingly true ever since Heather had tricked me into thinking Gwen was using me back at camp so many years ago.

Gwen…her name made the memories rush back, so I focused on something else.

Heather. Sure, she'd been mean back when she was a teenager, but, surprisingly, she was the first one who found out about Gwen, the first one to call, to send flowers, to cry for me.

She offered to take me out on her yacht in Italy, try to cheer me up. I'd accepted after numerous weeks, and that's why I was on a plane right now. Heading from Canada to Sicily. Our – no, my (I sniffled at the thought of this) son was on my lap, asleep.

Heather had told me specifically to bring Nathan, although I would have anyway. She had a four-year old daughter by some other man whom she had eventually divorced, and thought the two would play well together.

She was there when I arrived in Sicily, smiling with her daughter. We took her car, some kind of Lexus, I didn't really care, to her fancy Victorian-style, four-story house.

She'd become a neurosurgeon at the age of twenty-nine. By thirty-two she was filthy rich.

I wasn't jealous, I'd gone on to be a country rock star and Gwen was – had been – a famous journalist. We had plenty of money of our own, but we didn't flaunt it like Heather.

Some things never really change, apparently.

Speaking of which, I didn't know just how fast I was on the yacht, looking out into the sea and moping about Gwen.

Heather's hand touched my shoulder, and when I looked back, she wore a sad smile, while trying to offer me one of a few sandwiches she had made. I declined, and she walked away, knowing I needed the time to myself.

Nathan and Heather's daughter, Sarah, had taken to the comfortable hammocks in the cabin and were taking a nap. So; I was alone.

But Gwen was on my mind.

I didn't know what happened next. I was inside the cabin, crying, Heather embracing me in a hug that screamed 'I'm sorry, Trent, for everything you've been through.'

She wasn't good at saying sorry, even with all that had changed.

I feel bad for this one, but I do like the way it came out. Hope you like it too. :D


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